


Barely Stable Terminators

by GeorgeCantWrite



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hydra (Marvel), Internal Conflict, Nonbinary Character, Parental Bucky Barnes, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Natasha Romanov, Trans Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-05-24 23:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14964596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeorgeCantWrite/pseuds/GeorgeCantWrite
Summary: Going on missions was supposed to be easy for Bucky. In and out with minimal drama and injuries. This time, he has to deal with the fact that Hydra has created a psychopathic ghost assassin that can't be older than fifteen and somehow, they're now his responsibility.(In which Bucky's stress levels aren't helped by his friends or sudden responsibilities.)





	1. New Findings

**Author's Note:**

> Publishing this in lieu of updating other fics because procrastination has weird ways of working.

“You’re the worst,”

“In comparison to you, I’m not all that bad.” Pietro shot back at the archer decked out in purple gear.

Bucky sighed as he listened to Clint and Pietro continue to bicker. He had grown used to them having their daily spat, especially when they were to go away on missions. It had become a sort of ritual for the three, something Bucky kind of liked. “You two geared up?” he asked the pair, putting his boots on as Steve walked onto the jet.

“Ready?” he asked.

Clint and Pietro blinked at each other then turned to look at both super soldiers. “Yes.” they said in tandem. Bucky and Steve shared a look before Steve went to the front of the jet where Tony and Natasha were seated.

“You two are the worst.” Bucky told them both. They grinned back at him, amusement written on their faces. He shook his head, a fond smile playing up on his face.

“If those three don’t behave, I’m going to leave them in Siberia.” Natasha said to Steve, eyes looking out of the window in front of her. He chuckled, glancing over at Bucky, Clint and Pietro as they continued to talk to each other.

“Maybe not Siberia,” he said fondly.

Bucky wasn’t quite sure what the mission included. All they knew was that there had been a disruption in Siberia that was big enough to get their attention. Bucky wasn’t too happy about the mission, going to a cold country that had once been a place he resided in as the Winter Soldier wasn't something he was excited to do.

“Hey.” He glanced up and saw Clint looking at him. “You gonna be alright?” he asked, eyebrow raised as he kept Bucky’s gaze.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding as he leaned back into his seat, trying to get rid of the tension in his back. “I’ll be fine.”

The ride was silent and dragged on, and Bucky couldn’t help but feel … odd. The silence left him to his thoughts and let him worry about all the possibilities of the mission going wrong; but he had to push it aside, keep his head on straight.

At some point during the flight, Pietro had fallen asleep against him, his head resting on Bucky’s metal shoulder. Soft snores came from him every so often, and it was strangely calming, like it helped to keep Bucky grounded. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like how much Pietro trusted him – Clint too; it had been something he appreciated more than what words could comprehend.

“We’re almost there,” Tony informed the group after what felt like an eternity. Bucky grunted quietly, then nudged Pietro awake.

He blinked dazedly, shifting off Bucky and rubbed at his eyes. “Now we fight robots?” he asked, voice low and accent thick.

“You can stay the hell away from any damn robot,” Clint told him, and he flipped him off in retaliation.

“Was one time, old man,” he said, shaking his head slightly in an attempt to get rid of any fatigue he had.

“Whatever domestic you’re having now can wait; we’re going to land in about five seconds,” Natasha called, quickly halting Pietro and Clint’s conversation.

Bucky noted how Pietro’s body was vibrating, could feel it against his leg that Pietro’s was pressed against. The speedster didn’t appear to notice this, nor mind, which was something Bucky secretly liked.

The jet landed smoothly, the sound of the wind and snow hitting the jet loud in their ears. They didn’t look remotely bothered under their multiple layers as Tony got in his Iron Man armour.

“Everyone remembers the plan?” Steve asked in his authoritative Captain America voice. The team nodded in unison before exiting the jet.

Steve and Bucky were one team, which, at first, had been a not so great idea; Steve’s lack of self-preservation often had Bucky at his wits' end, half wanting to strangle him whilst the other half wanted to kick his ass for doing unnecessary things on missions (like jumping out of the plane without a parachute, dammit, Steve). He’d still be there to save his ass, and stop him from being too much of a dumbass.

It had been natural to have Natasha and Clint go off on their own team, as the two could work well together in a way that was almost envious, whilst Tony and Pietro were their own team. In hindsight, this pairing wasn’t great, but they were able to work well together, even if they were cocky and smug about nearly everything in existence.

“Hawkeye, status.” Steve said, touching his earpiece slightly. He glanced over at Bucky who was crouched beside him, fourth favourite knife in hand.

“Alive,” Clint replied, before there was a distant bang, “and mildly offended.”

“We’re in the lower levels, Cap,” Natasha supplied helpfully.

“Good. You know what to do, Nat.” he said, then looked over at Bucky, jerking his head. Bucky grinned and nodded.

The two snuck out from their hiding spot and took vantage points in the room before they attacked.  Steve leaped forwards, taking down the first agent with a hard punch to the face, throwing his shield at the ones that turned around to attack him. Bucky moved swiftly, jamming his knife into shoulders, backs and chests so rapidly he could’ve given Pietro a run for his money with the speed he moved at.

“Assholes,” Bucky muttered, wiping at his forehead, looking over at Steve. “Where to next, Cap?” he said.

Silently, he led Bucky through the Hydra base, the pair taking out the agents that came across them. It was tense, the air thick with it, and both could feel the blood pumping through their bodies.

“Oh, shit,” Tony’s voice said in their ears.

Bucky shared a look with Steve as he dropped the agent that had tried to jump them. “That’s never good,” he commented, and Steve gave him a Look.

“What’s happened, Tony?” Steve asked, taking out the USB from the computer, putting it into his utility belt.

“I think you guys should head up here – seventeenth floor,” Pietro said, and it took Bucky by surprise at how serious he sounded. The man had never been one to be sombre, and to hear him sound so, was alien.

“We’re on our way.”

The two super soldiers ran up for the nearest stairwell and ran up the stairs four at a time. The odd feeling back and resting inside Bucky’s chest. He knew something was going to go wrong; it had to. What could cause Pietro to be like that?

“Where are you on the floor?” Bucky asked into the comms, ignoring at how his heart was pounding painfully against his sternum.

He didn’t get a reply.

The panic begun to set in and he tried to put it aside as he and Steve began to look inside the rooms, trying to find both Pietro and Tony. He couldn’t help but feel sick as he searched each room, feeling like it was futile.

“Here!” Steve yelled, voice distant.

Bucky ran out of the room he was in and sprinted down to the room that Steve was inside. He reached the room, hands pressed to the doorframe. Inside, Steve was knelt beside Tony’s body, he was unconscious, armour torn apart. Pietro was laid a few feet away, his left leg bent at an odd angle, body slumped over. Both unconscious men were covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“Shit,” Bucky muttered under his breath, walking over to kneel beside him. He checked that Pietro was still breathing before he put him into the recovery position. He grabbed the nearest materials and put his leg into a splint, guilt swimming inside him as Pietro whined in pain, eyes opening.

“Bastard,” he said, hand going to push Bucky’s away.

He pushed Pietro’s hands back. “Нет,” he said quietly, then lifted Pietro into a sitting position. “Your leg is broken so don’t fuck with it."

Pietro groaned. “Нет, that little shit,”

Bucky froze, momentarily stymied. “What?”

“Kid – we thought they were unconscious, jumped us, I wasn’t quick enough to react and they broke my leg.” he said between breaths, face contorting in pain.

“Steve, did you hear that?” Bucky asked, turning to look back at his friend. He nodded, standing up as he gripped his shield that little bit tighter. Bucky turned back to look at Pietro. “Do you have any idea where the kid could’ve gone?”

“No. They used this place to their advantage,” he said, gritting his teeth. “They are like shadow,”

And then Steve was making a choking noise and the two looked and saw a short figure on Steve’s back, arms locked around his neck and legs around his arms, keeping them in place. Bucky moved with lightning speed, knocking the figure away. Steve collapsed to the ground, face a worryingly purple colour as he continued to wheeze, the sound odd, but gave Bucky a sense of déjà vu back to when Steve had been asthmatic.

The kid stood at seven inches shorter than Bucky, with a slim and slender frame, looking more like a teen than a kid that Bucky had first thought of, with dark brown, curly hair and light brown, freckled skin. They had hair like Bucky’s and stood similarly to him. It didn’t stop him from moving forward to attack them.

The pair moved at the same time, attacking together. They fought fluently, dodging and ducking whilst trying to hit each other in a way that was terrifying. He tried to swipe their legs from under them, but they expected it and jumped up, kicking at Bucky, forcing him to move backwards. He flung himself to the right, over the desk, raising his left arm in time to block the kick that had been aimed at his face as they had grabbed the edge of the desk to throw themself at him, trying to get more power behind their attack.

Bucky grabbed their ankle and dragged them closer and forced them to the floor as he went to stand on their stomach, but they moved aside, quickly getting to their feet. He jerked forward and blocked their punch with his left arm again before he kicked them in the chest, sending them stumbling backwards.

Steve appeared behind the kid and wrapped his arms around their middle, trapping their arms to their sides as Bucky moved forwards –

But then they were free of Steve’s grasp and his nose was bloody and he was on the floor, gasping in all the air he could, and they stalked towards Bucky and aimed a punch at him and he caught it and felt the familiar feel of a metallic hand, taking him off guard; they pulled him closer to them, and jumped up and wrapped their legs around his neck, pulling him to the ground, pulling his arm awkwardly behind his back.

“Fuck!” he yelped, reaching for his knife, but they’d already taken it, lodging it in his side. He bit back the scream and aimed his elbow at their face, but they dodged it and tried to remove the knife from his side before there was a high-pitched noise before they were quite literally blasted away from him, sending them flying across the room.

“Dick.” Bucky heard Tony say as he looked down at the knife embedded in his side. He looked around and found that he couldn’t find the kid. He put his hand around the knife and could feel the blood slowly dripping out of the wound. “Shit, where’d they go?”

“Didn’t you have that problem before?” Steve asked, though the words came out rough and wheezy as he wiped the blood from his nose onto his sleeve.

“Shut the fuck up, Steve, we didn’t expect the kid to be awake,” he shot back, groaning. “Tore my suit apart,” he said, sounding disappointed and Bucky couldn’t blame him. “How did they tear it apart?”

“And I’ve been fucking stabbed, so a little help would be appreciated.” he snapped, glaring at Tony.

“What’s happening, guys?” Clint’s voice asked in their ears.

“We’re down, there’s a kid here and I’m pretty sure they’ve been genetically engineered. Do not engage,” Steve said firmly.

“I see you,” said Pietro, and the others looked over at him. He was looking up at the half open vent, eyes squinted shut, but the pain was still evident on his face.

“Vents,” Steve breathed out and Bucky knew what was going to happen.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Pietro continued, eyes not moving from the vent. Bucky looked over at the vent and could barely see the slight gleam of eyes hidden within the darkness. “If you keep attacking us, we cannot help but defend ourselves. We want to help you.”

Bucky silently prayed that Clint could get in to the vent in time and stop them from vanishing. “I get it, I know how scary this can be, but we will help you. Just – don’t stab or kill us.”

It felt like they were waiting with bated breath, and it felt like the air was impossible to breathe in –

And then the kid was screaming, kicking inside of the vent before tumbling out of it and there were glimmers of metal on their body before they crashed onto the floor and Bucky saw their head smash into the ground, cracking ominously. Natasha appeared from the doorway, coming to stand over the kid before she was injecting them. They kept screaming, grabbing at the needle to yank it out of their neck and then threw it into the vent. Clint let out a yelp from inside of the vent, but the kid was already up and moving.

They were staggering, whatever Natasha injected them with already taking affect. Natasha moved quickly, pulling their arms behind their back, forcing them to stop moving, speaking to them in rapid Russian as they began to go limp, their eyes rolling into the back of their head and she laid them down onto the floor.

“So, has anyone got any idea on who the kid is?” Clint asked, hanging out of the vent.

“I think Bucky being stabbed is currently more of an issue,” Pietro pointed out, but there was a small smile playing at the ends of his mouth.

 

* * *

 

 

“You’ll be fine,” Natasha said to Bucky. He was laid down on the medi-bed that was inside of the jet. She had patched him up in the base whilst Clint had taken Pietro to the jet. Tony had a suit come and collect the remains of his whilst Steve had carried the kid out. “Just keep still for a while so that you can heal up.”

He didn’t have the energy to try and argue with Natasha Romanov, so instead turned his attention onto the kid. They were laid across several seats, handcuffed. The others could clearly see the metallic right hand, the plating going under their sleeve and they could see similar plating on their left leg from the tears in their clothing. “What do you think they were doing there?” he asked, a frown making its way across his face.

“My guess? New gen of genetic engineering,” Natasha answered with a slight shrug of her shoulders. She crossed her arms as she leant against the bed, eyes resting on the kid. “I found a file on them. Turns out Hydra is worse than what we thought.”

She held out the beige coloured file for him and he took it, opening it. He looked over the file to look at her. “Anything I should be worried about in this?”

“Most definitely.”

Sighing, Bucky turned his attention back onto the file as she walked off to check Pietro’s broken leg. The file was oddly thin, not that much detail within, but it did have basics. Bucky supposed that they must have been a new recruit of Hydra’s.

The kid wasn’t really a kid and was stated that they were currently fifteen, despite the date of birth being earlier than what it should be, and their gender nondisclosed. They had been subjected to human experimentation, genetic mutation and modification. The mother had been deceased for over a decade and their father –

“What in the fuck?” Bucky said loudly.

Their father was James Buchanan Barnes.

“What is it?” Steve asked before the others could. He snatched the file from Bucky’s hands and his eyes scanned over the words printed on the paper. “What the fuck?” he echoed, looking Bucky in the eye, confused expression matching Bucky’s.

“Someone please explain why people are ‘what the fuck’-ing for?” Clint said, giving the two a look from his seat beside Pietro.

Bucky sat up despite his wound’s protests and took the file back, looking at the words like they were wrong. This had to be a mistake, how the fuck did he have a child? He tried to ignore the photo clipped with the papers, of the kid in a cryogenic chamber, ice on their face, looking oh so scared and angry. He couldn’t believe it.

“They’re-they’re my kid?” The words came out like a question as he looked up at Clint, unable to stop the fear and worry consuming him.

“How?” Pietro asked, looking not even half as confused as Bucky felt.

Clint smirked and turned to look at him. “When a mommy and daddy love each other very much –”

“Shut the fuck up, old man,” he muttered, displeased. “I mean, wouldn’t you know if you had a kid or not?”

“Maybe we deal with new Daddy Barnes’ issues when we get back to the Tower, yeah?” Tony said, moving to sit in the pilot’s seat. “Will the kid be out until we get there?” he turned this question onto Natasha who sat in the co-pilot’s seat.

“It was enough to knock out both Barnes and Cap combined, so probably,” she said, unperturbed. “If they do wake up, well, I can always drug them again.”

“Does the kid have a name? Kinda tiring to keep referring to them as ‘kid’,” Clint said, looking at Bucky expectantly. He glanced down at the papers, grimaced at the name on the file and looked back up.

“Шура.” Bucky decided, nodding to himself, secretly quite proud of himself for thinking of a half decent name despite how unwilling to stand up to the role of being their father he was. He supposed the kid would want a new identity from what they used to be and getting rid of anything to do with Горя was a good idea.

“Shura?” Clint repeated, raising his eyebrow in a similar fashion that Natasha usually did. The similarity was admittedly worrying.

“Sure,” he said, and Clint snorted. “What? You didn’t see that coming?”

Steve chuckled from beside him. “That was terrible,” he said, shaking his head.

“You’re terrible,” Bucky shot back.

 

* * *

 

 

Wanda was the first thing Bucky saw when getting off the jet, and that was only because of how excited she had been to see her brother again. Pietro had been just as excited as her and his broken-but-nearly-fixed leg did nothing to stop him from hugging her the second the jet had landed.

Bucky had been mostly fixed by the time they had gotten back to the Tower too, the remains of his wound just an old, annoying ache that wouldn’t go away. He had been surprised that Shura had stayed unconscious throughout the flight. At points, he was worried that they were just putting up the façade of being unconscious, but with regular checks, Natasha had confirmed that they were indeed asleep.

“What’s wrong?” Wanda asked when she finally pulled away from her brother.

“We found someone at the base and had to bring them back,” Pietro told her, looking back over to Bucky. “What are we going to do with them?”

He shrugged. “Hope they don’t kill us in our sleep?” he suggested, looking over to where Maria Hill walked into the jet, her usual serious demeanour in place.

“Who are they?” Wanda asked, nudging her brother in his ribs. He looked over at Bucky who looked uneasy.

“They’re Shura and-and I’m their father,” he said, the words like a sickness on his tongue. He turned on his heel and walked off, the pressure too much. He couldn’t think straight; everything felt like it was weighing down on him, suffocating him.

He needed to let off the steam.

Steve found him a few hours later in the gym, punching the fifteenth punching bag to shreds. He was ignoring the pain in his side; it was almost gone anyway, like a small sting, and he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. The stinging kept him partially grounded, keeping him from delving too deep into his mind as he continued to hit the bag.

“Bruce took some blood from Shura,” Steve told him, standing a few feet from him, arms crossed over his chest. “He ran a few tests to make sure, and they’re definitely yours,”

“Didn’t ask for this,” Bucky muttered with a final hit to the bag. He straightened his back, blowing a breath out of his mouth as he shook his hair from his face.

“I know. Neither did they. They’ve been subjected to the serum like you –”

He frowned. “It’s in my DNA anyway, so shouldn’t they have it anyway?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “Hydra must’ve wanted to give them an extra dose, make them stronger and more agile, I guess,” he said, a sour look coming onto his face. “They’re clearly strong, Tony said they’d managed to tear his suit apart with their real hand. They’ve got a metal right arm, and it mirrors yours. Their metal leg only goes halfway up their thigh.”

“Why do they have –?”

“Doesn’t say on their file except for what we read about mutation, experimentation and it only stated modification, which I’m guessing is the prosthetics.” Steve said, pursing his lips.

Bucky closed his eyes momentarily, letting out a slow breath. “Pricks.” He opened his eyes as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I guess I’ve gotta go see ‘em?”

“Well, it’s up to you, but that’d be nice,” Steve admitted. “How are you feeling with all of this?”

“Like Hydra keeps fucking things up for me even after I’ve got rid of their hold on me,” he said honestly. He shook his head before he followed Steve out of the gym.

Bucky didn’t know what he was doing; how was he going to deal with this kid? They’d already almost killed four Avengers and it took another two to make sure they didn’t. The kid – _Shura_ , Bucky reminded himself – was just that, a kid. He couldn’t help but feel bad that they’d been born, with his help. But he couldn’t remember ever doing anything like that.

“What if Hydra used my DNA and created a sort of clone of me?” Bucky asked, glancing over at Steve. “I mean, I don’t have the memories and we know Hydra could do it,”

“We’ll deal with that when we have to. For now, I think it’s best that we don’t freak Shura out and try and help them,” Steve said, a subtle authoritative tone to his voice. “If Hydra did that, then I’m going to get very angry and throw my shield at a lot of people.”

It got a smile out of Bucky, which was something. They got to the med bay not too longer after, and saw Shura sleeping in one of the beds, head wrapped up in bandages. Pietro was sat on the one a few feet away from theirs. He looked relatively calm and at ease, like the person who hadn’t broken his leg, tore the Iron Man armour apart, or nearly killed the Winter Soldier and Captain America wasn’t three feet away from him.

He even waved at Bucky when he entered the med bay, offering a bright smile. “How are you feeling?” he asked when Bucky was close enough. He shrugged his answer.

“When’s Shura supposed to wake?” he asked, changing the subject. He found it difficult to look at them and acknowledge that they were his. He supposed he would be doing better than if it was Steve in his position.

“In roughly five minutes,” Bruce said, walking up from behind Bucky with a clipboard in hand, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. “Their vitals are fine, the drugs Nat injected them with is wearing off. They’ve got restraints on their wrists and ankles, which should keep them from breaking free.” he explained, looking over his glasses to Bucky. “If they do break the restraints, you and Steve will need to hold them down in case they try to escape,” he said.

“Our odds don’t sound too great, doc,” Bucky said, arms crossing over his chest. “The kid managed to get their way with four of us –”

“Well, we have Thor and Natasha if things don’t go to plan,” he replied, looking rather unconcerned. He looked over at Shura. “Ah, here we go,”

Shura opened their eyes and Bucky saw the tension fill their body, in the way the plates in their arm whirred and shifted. They sat up, blank faced as they took in their surroundings.

Bruce walked over, his gait nervous, but oddly calming. “Hello. I’m Bruce Banner.”

“Здравствуйте.” they said. They looked at Bucky, eyebrows slanting minutely, distrustful of Bucky, but acknowledged him. “Солдат.” They said it like it was the normal thing to do, like they were a fellow soldier to Bucky. It made Bucky hate Hydra that little bit more.

“You’re not a soldier, neither am I,” Bucky told them. Shura tilted their head to the left, eyebrows slanting again. He sighed, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. “You’re safe here.”

“No,” they said, and it took them all by surprise at the easy switch in languages and the accentless English that came from Shura’s mouth. “Нет – not safe,” they said, and despite their easy switch of languages, it felt like they were more comfortable with Russian and lacked good English.

Bucky saw their eyes do the familiar sweep of the room, trying to find any exits, looking at the others like they were analysing the people in the room, like they were trying to figure out how to take them all down. It was unnerving to see the actions on someone as young as Shura.

“Is it OK if I ask you how you got your prosthetic limbs?” Bruce asked, edging closer to them. They turned their attention onto him, narrowing their eyes.

“Modifi-kay-ton,” they said, the word sounding wrong on their tongue at the mispronunciation. “Где Я?” they asked, turning their attention back onto Bucky.

“The Avengers Tower,” Pietro said and Shura’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “We will keep you safe.”

“Never. Safe.” they said firmly, looking back to Bucky again. “Not safe. Not safe – not safe!” They jumped out of the bed, restraints breaking and falling aside as if they were made of sand, and held their fists up slightly, looking like a frightened animal ready to attack. “Not safe.” Shura said, chest heaving.

Bruce looked over at Natasha, she shifted her hands behind her back, which Shura spotted. Then of course, ran for the door. Thor appeared in the doorway and Shura slid between his legs, then jumped to their feet and ran.

“Fuck,” Bucky muttered, and he chased after them, Steve and the others hot on his heels.

“Do you have any idea where the young one would go?” Thor asked.

Bucky sighed, eyes going around the hallway. “Vents. Try and get out through there?”

“On it,” Clint said and then there was the sound of metal clanging and he was gone.

“Jarvis will have locked down the building, right?”

Steve made a grunting noise. “Tony’s smart, that’ll have been the first thing he’ll have done when we brought Shura in.” he said between breaths.

“I’m gonna go down a few floors, see if I can find them and stop them from doing something stupid,” Bucky said, rounding the corner to the nearest stairwell. He jumped down the steps five at a time, each step seeming to be in time with the harsh beat of his heart.

“Not safe.”

Bucky stopped dead in his tracks and looked around. He had to admit, Shura was good. He couldn’t spot them. “Listen to me, please, I know you’re scared, but we can help you.”

“Not need help.” Shura said, then dropped down in front of him. They looked as terrifying as ever, dark gaze on Bucky and he wondered where the hell they had come from. “Stop you.”

He dodged the punch they aimed at him, which had been surprisingly sloppy, but Bucky supposed their headwound was more damaging that what he originally thought. He quickly grabbed their other arm, keeping them in place as they toppled over. He put his legs over theirs, locking them in place. “You’re gonna hurt someone. You need to stop. I promise you, we’ll find a way to keep you safe.”

Shura either didn’t have a response, or didn’t want to respond, because they stopped fighting Bucky, going lax. He sighed, resting his head against the wall. It was silent for a few minutes and Bucky worried for a few seconds that Shura was planning their way to get out of the Tower. It made him uneasy at how worried he was of what they could do.

“I used to be the Winter Soldier.”

“Солдат,” they said quietly, then twitched in his arms and he instinctively tightened his grip on them. “They tell me of you,” they added. “Said I was better you.” It didn’t really sound like that had missed a word in their sentence, giving Bucky more fuel that they had tried to clone him. He tried to keep calm.

“What did they do to you?” he asked, flicking the hair out of his face.

“Stuff.” They rested their head against his chest, the fabric of his clothing scratching annoyingly against the bandages on their head. They sighed through their nose deeply, then appeared to give up. “There is words. It makes me the-the-”

“Горя?” Bucky asked, and felt the tension filling Shura’s body and he realised just why they were a better him. They both had their words, both had their counterparts. “We’ll make sure no-one comes near you with those words,” he promised.

They pressed their head into his shoulder. “Happens when wants to. No control.”

“I can help you control it.”

“Нет. Can’t control.”

He sighed, pressing his lips together, lost in thought. It didn’t take long for the others to find him and Shura sat in the stairwell. What had been most surprising, was how the two were talking together in Russian, sitting opposite each other, cross-legged. Bucky was pleased that Shura was at ease and was themself; it was weird to see them like this, but he supposed that it was better than them going and attempting to murder everyone in the tower.

Bucky knew that if they planned to do something like that, they wouldn’t have much difficulty. It was just that if they so wanted to, it was most likely to be under the influence of Горя.

“Shura?” Bucky asked. They had asked about their name and Bucky had told them their father had called them Shura, carefully avoiding the part that told them it was him. The most they had asked was how it was spelt and why it was the name Shura. Bucky had told them it was a Russian name, but with English spelling, which they accepted easily (after he had to show them how it was spelt).

“Да?” they said, looking up at him. They noticed the others approaching without really looking. It was something Bucky was used to doing, so saw the minute reactions that came with it. He didn’t know whether he liked that he could see his mannerisms in Shura.

Pietro gave them a small smile. “You hungry? Because there’s a very big kitchen that we can go and raid,” he said.

They shook their head, pressing their hands together, turning to look at the others. “He said I should apologise for tr-trying kill you. Sorry.”

Steve snorted. “It’s alright, kid, you weren’t in control,” he said and Shura frowned.

“How you know?” they said, looking over at Bucky. It was odd at how attached Shura had already gotten to Bucky and he both secretly loved and hated it.

He was in over his head.

“I do not want to know,” Shura said, shrugging their shoulders, then looked back at Bucky expectantly. “Еда?”

Pietro stepped up, grinning. His leg was in a cast and he seemed unconcerned that the person who had broken it was in front of him. “I can take you?” he offered. Shura nodded and he led them away.

Steve turned to look at Bucky once the two were out of sight. “Enjoying the family life?”

“Shut the fuck up, Steve.”


	2. Morning Heart Attacks and Diagnosis

“What are you gonna do?” Clint asked, hands wrapped around a mug of hot coffee. The steam was spiralling off it into the air lazily. Bucky was sat opposite him in the communal area at the island counter.

“Wing it.” he said, shrugging his shoulders before he took a mouthful from his own coffee. “I’m just surprised the kid managed to fall asleep,” he admitted. Clint nodded his agreements, glancing around Bucky to look at the sofa where Shura was curled up, Pietro beside them, bandaged head resting against the arm of the sofa, sound asleep. It was an odd sight, but it was welcoming. Pietro would occasionally twitch in his sleep, arm bumping into Shura every so often, and they would shift, the light glistening off what was visible of their bionic limbs.

“But seriously, how are you?” Clint raised his eyebrow at him. “This can’t be easy,”

Bucky shrugged. “I’m kind of just … trying not to freak out. Shura’s got problems like me. I guess I’m gonna help them before anything else.”

“And what are you gonna do if they ask about their parents?” he asked, noting how Bucky’s arm twitched slightly. “Because we both know that lying won’t be fun and Shura’s gonna find out eventually,”

He sighed, lowering his gaze slightly. “I dunno. I s’pose it depends on what they ask,” he admitted, voice low.

“The fact you haven’t gone into much shock is amazing,” Bruce said as he walked into the area, breadstick in hand. “Do you have any idea why?”

“Maybe the worry that Shura could lose control is keeping me from running off in shock?” Bucky asked, a half smile playing on his mouth for a quick moment. “They need help and I’ve been through what they’ve been through, so I’ve gotta help them,”

Bruce raised his eyebrow at him. “Well, you’ve taken that responsibility yourself when you don’t necessarily have to,” he said, sitting at the counter. “We could have easily taken them into our care and helped them. It probably wouldn’t be easy, but we’d get by.”

They looked over at Shura, seeing their chest rising and falling slowly. “No. They’re my responsibility.” Bucky said, shaking his head.

 

* * *

 

 

When Shura woke up, it wasn’t good. Night had fallen and the lights in the communal area were dim, and the others had all crept into the kitchen part, apparently not wanting to go near Shura. Pietro had woken up after a few hours and had immediately gone to try and find his sister.

Bucky had considered moving Shura, maybe into his room, or to the nearest bed, but worried they would wake up whilst he was moving them and freak out, so had opted for waking them up. It had turned out to not be the best thing to do.

He ended up with a dislocated shoulder, broken wrist and nose, as well as a black eye.

It had taken Shura a while to realise where they were, and had taken Thor tackling them and both Natasha and Bucky yelling in Russian for Shura to come to their senses. They had been screaming in Russian, doing their best to get out of Thor’s grip, spitting profanities at Bucky and Natasha that were the most vulgar things the two had ever heard.

Both Natasha and Bucky had yelled back, thinking of every command they could think of to try and get Shura to calm down and cease their actions. Bucky had managed to get the right words out, and felt sick at how similar the words were to his own when he had been the Winter Soldier.

“Told you – no control,” they said thickly, and Bucky thought they sounded too close to tears. He could’ve sworn he saw them wince as he swore when Steve relocated his shoulder. Steve chuckled quietly at Bucky’s predicament before letting Natasha wrap up Bucky’s wrist. They even made him put his arm in a sling which Bucky felt was hugely degrading.

“It’s fine,” Bucky told him, nodding to Thor to release them.  He did, stepping away so that Shura could sit up. “You can’t help it, but we’ll help you to,” he added, giving Thor some quiet thanks.

Shura looked conflicted for the briefest of moments. They looked at Bucky in a way he didn’t understand and felt like he should’ve known. He couldn’t help but feel guilty about not knowing how to help them – so he did what he did best, kept silent and tried to observe how he could help them.

“Hey, kid,” Clint said, kneeling down in front of Shura. They looked up at him, blank faced. “Come with me, I can teach you how to shoot a bow,” he offered. Bucky nearly choked on his spit.

“Uh, Clint –?” Steve began, looking significantly worried and annoyed. Clint offered him a wide smile before he pulled Shura to their feet and dragged them out of the communal area and out of sight. “Anyone else think that’s going to go terribly?”

“Clint knows what he is doing,” said Pietro, then realised what he said. “Maybe not, it is Clint after all,”

Bucky groaned, pressing his metal hand over his eyes. “I’m gonna go and make sure Shura doesn’t kill Clint and that Clint doesn’t accidentally kill Shura,”

“Sure thing,” Pietro said, and when Bucky gave him a withering look, he simply grinned. He got up and walked off after Clint and Shura.

His eye was sore, and he could feel the bruise forming around his eye. Admittedly, he shouldn’t have been as close to Shura as he had been, knowing how unpredictable brainwashed assassins could be – which was another reason as to why he was worried about Clint. He knew they knew nothing about Shura and the extent of what they were able to do.

Bucky eventually made it to the practice area and quietly entered it. The sort of gym consisted of several targets for both bows and guns. There was a climbing wall that stretched across one entire wall, and in the middle of the room was a series of mats that they would spar on. He leaned against the wall, eyes on Clint and Shura. They were both holding bows and Clint was talking to Shura with ease. The pair looked calm and relaxed in each other’s presence, which had taken Bucky by surprise. It was unlike everyone else who had been tense and alert around Shura. (Except maybe Pietro, but he had been hanging around Clint and Bucky too much, so his sense of self-preservation was steadily going downhill.)

And then Shura laughed. It felt like they were able to catch Bucky off guard more and more and he didn’t know how to feel about that. But he enjoyed listening to their laughter. Clint beamed and nudged Shura so that they turned to look at the target and Bucky ignored the envy tug in his chest.

He watched as Shura lifted the bow, nocking the arrow in place as they took aim, pulled it back and let the arrow fly. It all happened in one fluid motion and Bucky had to admit he was impressed with their speed, and the fact that they had hit the bullseye.

“Awesome, Shura!” exclaimed Clint, a wide grin on his face. “You sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Нет. Guns and-and close combat,” they said, fiddling with an arrow. “You?” they asked, lifting their head to look at Clint properly, curly hair falling around their face.

“I do a few things, but I mostly just stick to archery. Been doing it for nearly all my life,” he said, glancing over at Bucky. He tried to smile but it barely lasted a second before it had gone. “How well is your English?”

Shura shrugged, looking back to the target. “Bad?”

“I take it your Russian’s better?”

“Да,”

Clint smiled slightly, shaking his head. “Of course. Now there’s five Russians in this damn Tower.”

Bucky decided that was his cue to join in on the conversation. “I’ll let you know I’m not Russian, I just speak it,” he said, pushing himself off the wall to walk over to the pair. “Also, pretty sure Pietro and Wanda aren’t really Russian,”

“Same difference,” said Clint with a shrug of his shoulders.

“What?” Shura asked, frowning. “I not –”

Bucky cut them off. “It’s alright, no-one understands Clint anyway,”

They looked back at Clint. “Is obvious.” they said, and Bucky couldn’t stop the snort that escaped him. Clint looked over at him, offended.

“Dude.”

He gave him a sheepish look. “Shura’s funny,”

“Shur-am.” said Shura, grin wide on their face, despite somewhat looking like they wanted approval. Clint’s terrible sense of humour had already begun to affect them, and Bucky thoroughly enjoyed it.

“Oh, my god,” he muttered, but he was smiling at Shura who was doing it right back. “That was terrible, I love it,” he said. “How’re you feeling now, kid?”

They shrugged, arrow twisting between their fingers. “Confused?” They looked between the two men. “You two together, yes?”

Clint choked. So did Bucky.

“No?” Shura asked, a heavy accent coming out, reminding the two of Pietro. They rolled their eyes as they turned their attention back to the target, shooting the arrow at it. “Дуракы.” they sighed, looking at the target, bored.

Bucky recovered first as the arrow hit the bullseye. “We just didn’t expect you to ask,” he said, grimacing at how the words came out.

“You not have anything to prove to me, not like you trust me. I was curious,”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Clint said under his breath, looking like a good decade had been taken off his lifespan.

“Satisfaction brought it back, no?” Shura asked, raising their eyebrow like they were challenging Clint on the matter, despite the slight mispronunciation on the first word. “I go find old boy. Leave you two.” they said, walking off without another word.

Bucky’s whole face was on fire. He almost didn’t want to look at Clint – who, of course, coughed awkwardly. “Shura’s a bit, err, blunt?”

“Nearly as blunt as you,” Bucky muttered, pressing his good hand (ironically the metal one) to his face. “What the fuck, it’s barely been a day and they’ve broken my arm, can’t speak English right and could kill us all in our sleep,”

Clint looked over at Bucky, eyebrow raised. “That’s pretty much a normal day here. They’ll fit right in,” he said, then seemed to realise something. “They said old boy. Don’t tell me Shura means Pietro?” he asked, causing Bucky to bark out a laugh. “Oh, sweet Jesus, they did, fuck it, I’m stealing your child.”

The smile faded from his face slightly, which Clint seemed to notice. “Sorry. Just … bit much, saying Shura’s my kid. It’s barely been a day.”

“You keep expecting them to go and kill everyone. I don’t think they will. You’ve not seen how they look to you, like you’re the leader or something. Trust me, Shura won’t do that unless you tell them,” Clint told him, nudging him with his shoulder.

“Great, more pressure to not lose control and go all psycho assassin on everyone,” he said bitterly. He caught Clint roll his eyes and glared at him.

“You’re not gonna lose your cool, especially now Shura’s around.” Bucky maybe only hugely wanted to either punch and kiss Clint for having so much trust and confidence in him. He did neither and turned to leave, wanting to go and get some much needed sleep. He could practically feel Clint’s eyes on him as he left, no doubt full of amusement.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Bucky almost had a heart attack when he woke up at half six in the morning.

“You don’t do that!” he groaned, resting his head against his pillow, willing his heart to stop trying to explode out of his chest. “Jesus, kid,” he said, testing his wrist to feel that it had healed up. His nose and eye must have also healed during his sleep.

“Old boy said to,” said Shura, and he knew they shrugged like it was the most casual thing to do.

“Do you mean Pietro?” he asked, pulling himself up into a sitting position. He was shirtless, with only his pyjama pants on; he saw the way Shura’s eyes gazed over to where the metal and flesh connected on his shoulder for half a second before they turned their attention back onto him.

“Да,” they answered, looking unconcerned for someone who had just scared the Winter Soldier. “He is … odd. You two together, yes?”

Bucky wished he could stop existing. “No,” he said, getting out of his bed to grab the nearest shirt to put on. “I do not have anyone like that,” he clarified, giving Shura a stern look. They pulled a face at him, saying something under their breath that he managed not to get. “What do you want?” he asked when it felt like Shura had been staring at them far too long.

“Food.”

He held back the sigh and half asleep annoyed face. “You went with Pietro to get some food yesterday, he won’t mind taking you for some again,”

“Not allowed,” they said, nose wrinkling up. “Getting thing off leg,” they added.

“You – you should know what that is!”

They looked away. “Not know English word,” they said quietly, making Bucky feel like an utter dick.

“Cast – or, at least, that’s what I think it’s called,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as he finally found a clean t-shirt. “My English isn’t good in the mornings either,” he said, pulling the shirt over his head.

Shura shifted behind him and he turned around in time to see them wander over to the collection of knives he had stacked on his bookshelf. “No,” he said, walking over to them to pull them away, grabbing their left wrist.

“Curious,” they said, eyebrows narrowing at him. “No accidents today,”

“Shura, it’s not even seven in the morning,” he told them, pulling them out of his bedroom. “How did you get in here?” he asked as he led them into the kitchen he had on his floor that he sometimes shared with Pietro and Clint.

“Sky man let me in,” they answered, eyeing the toaster suspiciously.

Bucky had no idea what he was doing, and he was worried that Shura was either going to accidentally go into one of their Горя mindsets, or set fire to the tower from misuse of the toaster.

“Sky man –? Do you mean Jarvis?” Bucky asked as he got some cereal for Shura. He looked over at them in time to see them shrug, still staring out the toaster. He looked up at the ceiling expectantly before he grabbed the bowl and milk.

“My apologies, Sergeant Barnes, Shura was adamant on seeing you. They may have also hacked into my databanks to force me to let the doors open so they could see you,” Jarvis supplied, and Bucky pressed the tips of his metal fingers to his eyes, setting aside the milk.

“Shura. It is too damn early for this shit. You do _not_ do that. Got it?” he asked wearily, then finished up their breakfast and handed it over to them.

“Yes, Sergeant,” Shura said, sounding grumpy.

He looked up at them, eyebrow raised. “You don’t have to call me that,” he said, sitting down opposite them. “I’m not a sergeant any more.”

They fiddled with their spoon, avoiding his gaze for a moment before looking up at him. “Like now you not soldier?”

“Yeah. I’m not those any more. Like how you aren’t Горя,” he said, offering them a smile. They sighed, eyes like they were analysing him before they nodded.

“Not Горя. Words and fear make Горя. Not feared –”

“Not scared. You’re not feared either, but you yourself aren’t scared, or are afraid at the moment. If you’re feared, it means people are scared of you,” Bucky corrected them. Shura pressed their lips together.

“Then I am feared.” they said, then silently began eating. Not knowing what the fuck to do, Bucky went ahead and made his own breakfast.

The silence was awkward, but Bucky didn’t pay it any mind. He kept looking over at Shura every few seconds or so, like he was worried they would use their spoon against him. They either didn’t notice or didn’t care as they continued to eat, eyes on the food.

“Do your prosthetics hurt?” he asked after a while, the silence becoming too much. Shura shrugged, flexing their metallic fingers. “What’s the metal?”

“Adamantium. Vibranium,” they answered. “Leg adamantium, arm vibranium,”

“Is. Your leg _is_ adamantium and your arm _is_ vibranium,” he corrected, and they gave him a look.

“Leg is adamantium and arm is vibranium,” said Shura, and Bucky sighed.

“You missed a word out, but that’s fine,” he said, and they sighed, leaning back into their seat. “Learning languages isn’t easy and English is one of the hardest.” He took their bowl to the sink, then turned to look at them. “You’ll get the hang of it,”

“Bullshit,”

He gave them a pointed look. “You can cut that kind of language out,” he said, and they sighed heavily, turning to look away from him. “Look, Shura, you’re just a kid,”

“I can kill. Not kid,” they retorted. He felt his jaw clench and he forced himself to calm down. “What kid kills?”

“You don’t have to kill,” he said, sitting back opposite them, keeping their gaze on him. Their eyes were cold and young and old all at the same time and it made Bucky’s stomach churn. “You can decide on whether or not you want to do that, and you can decide what you do. Like how you decided you wanted to come here, that was your own choice. Just because you have the ability to hurt someone like that, doesn’t mean you have to do it.”

Shura made a quiet sound of contemplation and pulled their legs up to their chest. “If you say so,”

He felt bad that he didn’t know what to say or do. So when Tony Stark came waltzing into his quarters, he wasn’t sure if he appreciated the distraction or not.

“So, Shura, I heard that you managed to hack into my dear Jarvis,” he said, sitting beside them, apparently ignoring Bucky. He didn’t mind.

“Yes?”

Tony grinned his award winning smile. “Of course. I want to congratulate you on that; it’s impressive. But just to see ol’ Bucko here? C’mon kid, you could’ve at least done it to say hi to me,” he said, leaning against the counter to look at Shura properly.

They blinked, the faintest of frowns on their face. They turned to Bucky. “I decide to kill him.”

“No!” Bucky said loudly, pulling Shura away from Tony by the scruff of their neck. “We don’t kill Stark – or anyone here,” he added.

“It’s alright, everyone wants to kill me, Shura, you just gotta wait for everyone else to have their turn,” Tony said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “I was just wanting to ask you how you managed to hack into Jarvis; no-one else has been able to do that.”

Shura looked at Bucky, like they wanted reassurance. Tony coughed not so discreetly, and they looked back at him. “Не надо – don’t know,” they admitted, and Tony looked over at Bucky, looking mildly concerned. “I … do things and not realise. Like Горя t-takes control.”

“So your alter-ego helps you get what you want?” Tony asked. They shrugged, looking confused before nodding. “Hmm. When you first met us and attacked us, that was Gura –”

“Горя,” Bucky and Shura corrected in tandem.

“Горя, right, so that was them taking over trying to keep you safe?”

Shura nodded. “I think so. Not tell if right or not. Happens when I get fe- scared,” they corrected themself, looking at Bucky for approval. He nodded, giving them a smile despite being absolutely fucking terrified that they were looking to him for those kinds of things.

He was barely able to look after himself, let alone anyone else.

“You’re saying that if you get scared, they come out. Clearly, we’ve gotta make sure nothing scares you,” Tony said, He clapped his hands together, looking excited. “Anything you wanna do today, kid?”

Shura shook their head, turning to Bucky expectantly. “What, no, you’re supposed to be getting medical shit done for you, see why you’re so strong and that shit,” said Bucky. They huffed, shaking their head.

“No. No medic. Hurts.” Shura said stubbornly, then turned to Tony. “No medic.” they said, looking like they were silently pleading him.

He shrugged helplessly. “I’m not your guardian. But if you don’t wanna do it, then I suppose you can’t be forced,” he said, letting Bucky feel offended that he didn’t try and persuade Shura to let Bruce see the extent of their strength and the serum they had; but he knew if he was in their position, he would be acting exactly the same.

“It’d be Bruce, you like Bruce,” Bucky offered, and they turned a vibranium middle finger up at him before stalking out of the room.

“You did that well,” Tony said after a brief pause.

He gave him a withering look. “I’d like to see you do better,” he snapped, walking off into his bedroom.

“They even walk like you do!” Tony called after him before he left Bucky alone to brood.

 

* * *

 

 

“Anyone seen Shura?” Tony asked as he walked into the communal area where nearly everyone was clustered. “I went to see why Jarvis was glitching by Bucky’s room, and it turns out it was Shura with their alter-ego. Now they’re gone, and I can’t get Jarvis to find them on the security cameras,” he said, leaving the others in varying degrees of panic.

“How have we lost Shura so many times?” Steve demanded loudly. “They’re a child assassin that nearly took down me and Bucky – and we’re not treating them as seriously as we should,” he said, frustrated lines growing in his face.

Clint and Pietro snorted. “Shura won’t leave, they like us,” the two said in tandem. “Well, they like Pietro anyway,” Clint continued, jerking his thumb across to the younger man. “Has their own nickname for him too. They’re confused and all that shit and like Pietro and look to Bucky for commands. Shura won’t leave unless Горя comes out,”

“Горя?” Thor questioned, a frown creasing his forehead.

“Shura’s Hulk, I suppose,” Bruce spoke up, shrugging his shoulders as he shared a quick glance with the god. He turned his attention to Tony. “Jarvis bugging out, was that Shura?”

Tony nodded. “They wanted to see Bucky, but Jarvis wouldn’t let them and then Горя came out? They said Горя takes control when they’re scared and when things don’t go their way so that they can end up being safe and shit like that,” he said. Clint saw the minute frown on Natasha’s face, something the others wouldn’t be able to detect.

“Nat?” he asked. She looked up at him and he knew the look behind her façade.

“So Shura’s essentially a clone of Bucky, right? Hydra had to be prepared for if their ghost assassin was killed or went missing, so creates the double of the Winter Soldier; but Shura’s young, and a child’s mind can do more than what anyone could ever expect, so any torture or training Shura’s gone through could easily be tucked away into the Горя part of them,” she said, eyes dark.

Clint raised his eyebrows at her. “There’s more, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding softly. “They’ve been taught so many things and can remember how to do these things, so there’s a delicate veil between Shura and Горя which means that anything could tip them into that side, or keep them balanced in the right mind. Clearly, whatever Hydra wanted to come from Shura hasn’t been successful. Maybe that’s why they were made to go against us when we went to the base?” she suggested.

Steve swore, the fork in his hand breaking in half. “And they failed,” he said, wiping a hand over his face, like he was trying to control his anger.

“That means what? Hydra will think they got killed in the fight, right?” Pietro asked, looking around at the others. “Or am I just being idiotic?”

“Yes,” Clint said, and Pietro threw him a dirty look, muttering something in Sokovian at him.

“Shura’s not dead and Hydra will know. They’ll try and come after them and try and get rid of the mistakes they made. They’ll know how to work around Shura and Горя so that they can try and kill them.” Natasha told him, leaning back in her seat, red hair falling behind her back elegantly. Her mouth twitched in a quick smile, nodding and then Shura was walking into the communal area, footsteps silent.

“Not gonna lie, that is scary, kid,” Tony said, and they smiled, saying something in Russian at him that had Natasha, Wanda and Pietro chuckling to themselves. Tony looked at them. “What? What did they say?” he asked.

Natasha shook her head as Shura walked over and sat beside her. “You’re gonna let Bruce take your blood, alright? We need to know your medical details,” she said, and they nodded, despite the uncomfortable look on their face.

“Моя папа?” they asked quietly, the words nearly inaudible. Natasha shook her head and they nodded, leaning back in their chair, similarly to Natasha, but their posture was just that little bit tenser and their eyes swept over the room regularly.

Thor looked at Shura brightly. “How are you, my dear?” he asked, they shrugged their answer, but kept their eyes level with his. “And Bucky?”

The others saw how Shura’s eyebrow twitched at the mention. “Being little мальчик,” they said, nose wrinkling up and Steve couldn’t help but see Bucky in their face. “Shitbag,” they added.

“He’s an idiot, but when he broods it means later he’ll know what to do,” Steve told them.

They gave him a dark look. “Закрой свой рот, сука,” they said, murder glare in place that could put Bucky’s to shame.

Steve raised his eyebrow at them, but decided not to say anything, probably so that he wouldn’t get killed. Natasha gave them a look and they sighed. “Извини,” they said, though with the murder glare, didn’t look it.

“You’re not, but it’ll do,” Natasha said, then pushed their shoulder gently but with a subtle hint of authority. “Go with Bruce and he’s gonna take your blood. He won’t scare you and you’ll be safe,” she said, and they nodded and Bruce led them out, looking only slightly worried that he would be alone with the child assassin.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Thor asked. “I mean no disrespect,” he added, and Natasha smiled.

“None received. Shura won’t do anything. At the moment, they’re looking towards the person they see with the most authority since Bucky’s not here,” she said and Clint grinned.

“And they know it’s you,” he said, and her smile widened faintly. “Kid’s smart,”

“Kid’s been raised by the psycho Soviets, they know who to follow in terms of leadership,” Bucky’s voice said, making a sudden appearance. “They finally getting tests done?” he asked, avoiding looking at Steve, eyes on Natasha.

She nodded and the two exchanged some looks that they seemed to understand. Bucky didn’t look too pleased, but ended up looking like he had agreed to whatever Natasha had told him.

“Stark, get up a live feed of the med bay,” said Bucky, whirring noises coming from his arm quietly as he tensed up. A few seconds later, the feed was playing on the large TV screen.

Bruce was sat beside Shura on one of the many beds. Shura had already changed into some shorts and a tank top, revealing where the metal connected to their body. The others were able to see the angry scarring around their shoulder, going down beneath their top, it was all reddened, deep marks, nearing close to their neck. Bucky could see the slight gaps between the metal and their skin with each breath Shura took.

That was always uncomfortable to feel; especially when a cold air got through the gaps, sending pain through the sensitive area beneath something impenetrable. He wondered if they were able to feel the same way as he did when it came to that, or if it didn’t bother them. He decided he didn’t want to know yet, that he wasn’t quite prepared to know.

They were unable to see the extent of the possible scarring on Shura’s leg, the details just out of sight from how the camera was angled. They knew from Shura’s shoulder marks that the leg couldn’t be unharmed.

“It looks like your serum surpasses that in Steve,” Bruce was saying when they tuned into the feed; he was pulling a needle out of their arm, full of their blood. Shura looked low-key worried as they made a noise in the back of their throat.

“The flag man?” they asked and the others saw the smile on Bruce’s face.

“Yeah, the flag man. He’s Steve, Bucky’s friend,”

“He is … сука,” they said. “What else?” they asked, poking at the clipboard that was in Bruce’s hands. “Good strength, yes?”

“What the fuck does сука mean?” Steve asked.

“Bitch. The little Russian I do know,” Clint supplied helpfully, looking quite cheery, even if Pietro was poking his cheek repetitively.

“You were able to tear apart the Iron Man armour, weren’t you?” Bruce asked, bringing their attention back to the screen as Shura held up their left hand, wiggling blood and flesh fingers. Bruce pursed his lips momentarily. “Good strength,” he repeated, resulting in Shura beaming.

Bucky felt his stomach knot, recognising his smile in theirs. How could someone like Shura be related to someone like Bucky? He couldn’t help but feel bad for them.

Bruce stood up, turning to look at their arm. “Does not hurt,” they informed him. “If too warm, hurts. Too cold, too,” they said. Bruce frowned at Shura.

“Do you mean it hurts when it gets either too hot or too cold?” Nod. “Where does it hurt? Where they meet or is it around the entire arm or shoulder?”

“Yes. Depends on w-weather,”

He sighed, then gestured to their arm. “May I check?” They nodded, though did look only the slightest bit scared before they tucked it away behind a façade.

“How many cameras do you see in here, Shura?” Bruce asked absently as he held their vibranium wrist, checking their hand, seeing how their fingers worked.

“Eight.”

Bruce made a humming noise. “Sure?” he asked. They nodded. “Correct. What’s the smallest item here?”

The others watched Shura look around, careful not to disrupt Bruce’s examination of their leg. “Paperclip. On-on стол,” they said, frowning.

“Table?” he guessed, and they nodded, repeating the word, familiarising it on their tongue. “What could you do with the paperclip?”

They shrugged. “Disarm J-Jarvis, kill Black Widow, Winter Soldier. Electrify rest. Unknown of you,”

“Why?” Bruce said as he moved on to look at their elbow.

“Your Горя,” they answered honestly. “Unknown of weakness. How to stop, to kill him.” They looked up at Bruce, easily catching his eye.

Steve turned to look at Natasha and Bucky. “He’ll be fine,” Natasha said, eyes unmoving from their place on Shura.

“Who told you that?”

“Observe it,” Shura said. “Sucks,”

He nodded, turning his attention back to their arm. “It does,” he murmured.

“Dude, your kid is deep,” said Pietro, looking at Bucky. “How can they be so many things at once?”

Bucky shrugged, wondering the same damn thing himself.

Bruce finished up checking their arm in silence before he gently nudged their metallic foot. Shura slid further back onto the bed, lifting their legs up onto the bed. That was when the others saw the mess of their leg.

The adamantium didn’t look like it wanted to be there, looking almost detached from the flesh it was supposed to be connected to. There were red and purple scars lining their leg, trailing up under their shorts. It was painful to look at and Bucky had to admit that he was surprised that Bruce hadn’t flinched or turned his gaze away when he saw the horrible scarring.

“Fuck,” muttered Clint, and Bucky saw Pietro hold his hand. “Poor kid,” he said as they watched Shura wiggle their metallic toes, looking unconcerned about anything in the world.

They watched as Shura moved their ankle, bent their knee and allowed Bruce to look at the plating on their leg. In all honesty, Shura looked bored and at some point, their eyes had glazed over. Bruce didn’t seem to mind, but kept speaking every so often so that Shura would know what he was doing.

“Anything bad, doc?” Shura asked once Bruce had finished up.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, you’re fine. Only maybe the only few things that are concerning is the weight and size of your bionics and how concentrated your serum is,” he said, and they shrugged. “If it’s alright with you, I can get Tony to remake your prosthetics to fit you better? He might have to check them to know the schematics though.”

They shrugged again. “Does not matter. If it helps,” they said, and Bruce sighed, giving them a kind of sympathetic smile as he removed the bandaging on their head, seeing that it had healed up.

“He’ll only do it if you consent to it,” he said, the words bordering authority and the others knew he knew they were watching them. “C’mon, kid, I know where Tony hordes his favourite ice cream,” he said, smiling as he held out his hand for them. Shura took his hand and let him lead the way out.

“The fuck, no-one knows where I hide my secret stash.” Tony said, looking all offended like someone just kicked his puppy.

“Everyone knows where your secret stash is,” Pietro told him, smirking. “Is not very secret,”

Bucky sighed, leaning back in his chair, thoughts whizzing around his head. He tried to think through what he had just seen. He recognised the signs of shutting down when a doctor got close, knew that Shura had been scared, but knew to trust Bruce. He had to admit that he appreciated how honest they were with Bruce. Sighing, he leaned back against his seat, wondering if Bruce would’ve made a better parent for Shura than him.

 

* * *

 

 

Shura stared at the back of Bruce’s head, knowing how to take him out, but unsure of how the Hulk would react. They decided against their instincts and what Горя was screaming in their brain. Instead, they tried to push it all away as Bruce led them to Tony’s secret stash of ice cream.

They stayed silent as they and Bruce ate the ice cream and they supposed that his concerned expression was because of the amount of ice cream they were eating in such a short amount of time.

“You’re gonna get brain freeze,” Bruce told them, eyebrow raising slightly. “I’d slow down if I were you,”

They looked back at him, spoon half hanging in their mouth. “Oh well.”

Bruce snorted quietly.

He was worried about both Shura and Bucky – Shura was just a kid and was having to deal with having a psycho other self that could take the world down at a moment’s notice, not to mention having to deal with being in a place they didn’t know with complete strangers. He supposed that they were dealing with it well, possibly better than what he might have done.

And Bucky. The poor guy. He was having to deal with the sudden responsibility of being a parent to the child that could kill. Bruce decided that he was glad to not be in Bucky’s shoes because he knew he wasn’t sure as to how he would react if he had to deal with what Bucky did.

“Where my parents?” Shura asked, scaring the life out of Bruce. He lifted his head from his bowl of chocolate chip ice cream to look at them.

“I’m not sure I’m the person to be talking to about that kind of thing,” he admitted.

They stared at him for a moment. “Fine.” they said, though they didn’t look pleased. They turned their attention back onto their ice cream (plain vanilla with strawberry juice on it). “So I am experiment, yes? S-synthetically made?”

Bruce pressed his fingers to his eyes, sighing through his nose. “Shura –”

“Нет,” they said, and he saw their right hand grip the spoon tightly and saw the dust fall between their fingers.

“Шура!” The Russian pronunciation came thick and clear and they tensed up, freezing in place. Bucky walked over, stern expression on his face and Bruce wondered for a moment if he knew how much he looked like a dad.

“Fuck you,” Shura snapped and he narrowed his eyes at them. Both men looked taken aback at the outburst.

And then of course Bruce began to witness an argument in heated Russian between Bucky and Shura. He blinked a few times before he sneaked off, leaving the two to yell each other hoarse.

“What are they even arguing about?” Clint asked Pietro as Bruce stepped out of the room, the Russian screaming match trailing after him. The two were stood outside the door, looking mildly concerned.

“Something about Bucky not being fair to them and that Shura is being a child and should stop acting like one. Shura’s saying Bucky’s a dick and that they can control themself since Bucky’s saying they need to get their control in check so we don’t see Горя making an appearance,” Pietro translated helpfully. “Holy shit, Shura just said they’re all lucky Горя hasn’t made an appearance because he’s pissing them off enough,”

“Shura’s handling things kind of well – it’s pretty hard to control the crazy, angry alternate you that wants to destruct everything,” Bruce said, making the two nod somewhat solemnly. “Does Bucky notice how much of a dad he’s being right now?”

“Fuck no,” Clint said, but was grinning. “He’s gonna realise later,” he said, leaning against Pietro as Bruce nodded to the two and walked off.

Shura stormed out of the room about thirty seconds later, muttering vehemently in Russian under their breath. Bucky appeared not a second later, still talking at Shura despite how they weren’t looking, or listening, to him. They instead turned to Pietro and walked around him, pressing their head into his back, hands fisted into the material of his shirt. He could feel them shaking minutely.

“Shura,” Bucky said through a sigh. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, looking tired.

Pietro sighed, attention on Shura. “Hey, come on, kid, let’s go,” he said and was surprised that they let him pick them up and speed off with them.

Swearing, Bucky looked up to the ceiling, looking like it ought to have all the answers to his questions. “Honestly, this isn’t how I expected things to go so far,” he said to Clint, though kept his eyes upwards. “I thought they’d be struggling to differentiate between themself and Горя, but no, they’re fine so long as they don’t get scared. But it feels like I’m walking on eggshells because they don’t know what they’ve done and what’s been done to them.”

“Dude, it’s not your fault –”

“Shut up. I mean, I’m happy that it’s like this, because it’s almost easier because we don’t really have to deal with them spontaneously becoming Горя. I’m just worried because I don’t know how a child should be acting in these kinds of situations. And I’m already so invested and it’s weird and terrifying because this shouldn’t be happening.” he said, tearing his eyes away from the ceiling to look down at the ground.

Clint put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, his grip solid and comforting. “You’re handling it pretty damn well and so is Shura. I’m pretty sure all you gotta do is be supportive and help them understand how they should act and behave and shit will start sorting itself out,”

“And what if people come after Shura?” Bucky hated how scared the words had come out of his mouth.

“Shura can take care of themself. If they put their mind, and Gura’s mind to it, they’ll survive.”

“Горя,” Bucky corrected quietly, leaning in to Clint’s touch. “You’re right. I’m gonna go back to my room – tell Shura if you see them, yeah?”

“’Course,”

He watched Bucky go.


	3. Spiders and Scents

Shura stayed as silent as they could, pressed against Pietro’s side, shaking. He had an arm around their shoulders, resting his head on top of theirs. They were still dressed in their shorts and tank top, though didn’t seem to be shaking because of the cold of the floor and metal panelling of the wall.

“How you feeling?” he asked after a few minutes of silence. They shrugged, fiddling with their fingers, cracking the bones in their left hand, and poked at the small plates in their right. “He is just worried about you,”

“He acts like is guardian. Not have to be it.” they said, shifting their head on his shoulder. “I not understand,” they admitted quietly, and Pietro wanted to yell at Bucky.

“I don’t either. Bucky is … complicated. He has been in a similar place to you, so wants to help, but doesn’t quite understand how to,” he said, rubbing their side gently.

They sighed. “Still sucks.”

Pietro didn’t know what to say, so allowed them to curl up beside him, drifting off to sleep. He wasn’t all too sure how long he stayed like that with them, except he knew that he too was beginning to join them in dreamland.

 

* * *

 

 

Shura woke up on their side, their head resting on Pietro’s hip as he laid with his upper body sort of sprawled over their side, his head resting in the dip of their own hip. He was snoring. They flicked his ear and he jerked awake.

“Time s’it?” he asked, sitting up, rubbing his eyes sleepily. They shrugged and sat up too, stretching. “Shit. Clint’s gonna be annoyed at me,”

“Clint. He Hawkeye, yes?” they said, earning their answer in the form of a nod. “You two together, yes?”

Pietro made a noise in the back of his throat. “I am not sure,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, trying to not look as hurt as he felt before he gave them a smile. “We do not really talk about it,”

They looked over at him, eyebrow raised. “Is just there.” they concluded, popping their left shoulder. He nodded, allowing the silence to consume him. Shura pulled an unhappy face then stood up, dragging Pietro along as they grabbed his hand.

“Where are we going?” he said, earning a shrug. “If you are going to try and make me and Clint talk, it will end awkwardly,”

“No. I … feel like prisoner.” Shura said. “Is practice with weapons. I like that,”

He chuckled. “Don’t think Steve or Bucky would like to hear you saying that,”

“Steve and Bucky not control me. Neither are guardians to control me,” Shura said firmly and Pietro felt the discomfort rise in his stomach. “Natalia says OK anyway.” they added, tone suggesting that was the last that needed to be said on the topic.

“Natasha?”

“Natalia, Natasha, same difference,”

The two made it to their destination and Shura walked over to the archery range and begun to shoot arrows at the different targets that Jarvis had set up, looking completely at ease. Pietro sat on one of the benches pressed against the wall and noticed they tensed up when the doors opened about five minutes later, and Bucky walked in.

“Where have you two been?” he asked as he sat beside Pietro, hands pushed inside the sweater he was wearing, the hood slung over his head.

“Fell asleep feeling sorry for ourselves,” he said honestly, turning to look over at the man. “They’re alright, just being … a teenager, I suppose,” he sighed, leaning back against the wall. “I think they’re dealing with all of this pretty well.”

Bucky made a noise in the back of his throat that Pietro supposed was his agreement. “Steve doesn’t think it’s a good idea to let Shura have weapons,” he said, getting straight to the point, though looked uneasy talking about it.

“What do you think?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest loosely, eyebrow lifting gently.

Bucky’s face did an odd conflicted expression, like he was unsure of what to say, or how to say it correctly. “I’m just worried that Горя could take over their mind at any given time and use those weapons against us. But I think that Shura’s strong enough to not let that happen, so long as they’re comfortable and confident in themself.” He watched as Shura shot three arrows at once, each hitting the target with dull thuds.

The two took in their stance, the strength in Shura’s shoulders and arms as they pulled back the string, and the firmness of their grip on the bow. Bucky had to admit that it was impressive, that they knew how to use it properly. He wanted to see what their expression was like, but was unable to see, as Shura’s stance resulted in their back to Bucky.

“I haven’t really had much time to speak to Steve,” he said, creases forming between his eyebrows. “Well, I have spoken to him, but it’s not been much. I think he thinks I’m gonna lose my head and run off,”

“Would you? Run off?”

He shook his head. “No. Even though I barely know Shura, I won’t be leaving them. I can’t,” he pressed his metal fingers to the bridge of his nose for a second. “Besides Steve, I’m about as strong as them. We can’t ask Bruce to bring out the Hulk to keep Shura from escaping, Thor can’t spend all his time here trying to hold them down if they lose control, but we need to be careful around them. I don’t know the extent of what Hydra put in their brain and how it all works – hell, I barely know what they did to my head – but they’d be better knowing someone else here has been through what they’re going through.”

Pietro nodded, shifting his weight slightly and then his shoulder was pressed against the metal of Bucky’s. He tried to ignore the weird feeling in his stomach, pushing it aside for something to deal with later when he wasn’t as bothered about Shura’s sudden appearance and difficulties in his life.

It only hugely terrified Bucky at how much he was willing to help Shura and care for them, even after the very little time they had known each other. He decided that he would be OK with it; they were the most important thing now, needed the most care and help. He could deal with his own, minor problems later when he could think clearly.

“I think you should know that they’re also looking to Natasha for commands and leadership when you are not there, and that she said it’s alright for them to use weapons to practice with,” Pietro said after a few seconds. “Natasha knows what she’s doing.”

“I know she does. But … I worry about Shura.” It sounded like it pained Bucky to admit it and Pietro had to give the man credit for it. “It’s just – the thought that they know how to use these weapons already is frightening to know.”

Shura walked over, apparently done with shooting arrows at inanimate objects, bow slung over their shoulder, resembling Clint vaguely, especially in their expression. “Bored,” they said, looking at the two expectantly.

The two men blinked at them. “What do you want me to do?” Bucky asked. They shrugged, fingers resting on the recurve of the bow. “I can get Jarvis to play you some films?”

“Films?” They cocked their head to the side, brows creasing together. “What is films?” they asked slowly.

Pietro looked personally offended. “Come on Terminators, let’s have a movie marathon,” he said, taking both of their hands in his, and dragged the pair out of the door.

In the end, it resulted in Pietro, Bucky, Clint and Shura watching the entire Terminator films. With both ghost assassins criticising it.

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky couldn’t move. Well, he could, but he didn’t want to wake Shura, whose head was pressed into his side. Their metal hand was palm upwards, resting on his thigh and they had their other arm wrapped around his metal one, using it like a poor substitute of a blanket. He didn’t mind much, just that he was worried they would have another mishap and send him flying through the wall.

And obviously, Clint and Pietro had found the entire thing hilarious. They had gotten away unscathed and were grinning at Bucky who was tensed so much he felt like he was turning to stone. His jaw was aching marginally from the tension running through him.

“You look terrified,” Clint observed helpfully, eyes full of glee as he looked at the two super-soldiers.

“You don’t have a miniature ghost assassin sleeping on you,” retorted Bucky, and Shura shifted beside him, legs curling up to their chest.

In front of him, Clint snorted. “Shura’s not gonna go all Горя on us. They like us too much – especially you,” he said, wide grin on his face.

“I agree,” Pietro said between mouthfuls of popcorn. “They like you. Just. Teenager shit.”

Sighing, Bucky turned his head to look at Shura. “Teenager shit,” he repeated quietly, finding a sort of happiness in seeing the calm, peaceful state Shura was in as they slept. “Guys, I have no idea what to do.”

The words came out before Bucky could really stop them and he silently cursed himself; they didn’t need his baggage, it already came with the Winter Soldier, and now a smaller, possibly more lethal version of himself.

“No-one does. I’m pretty sure you gotta figure it out as you go,” Clint said, the amusement no longer in his face. It turned out he could be serious when it was needed. “We can support Shura, help them become more normal, like, keep the whole ghost assassin aura to a minimum and help them speak English better,”

Bucky felt discomfort again. “I can’t be askin’ you two to help,”

“Tough shit, we are already helping,” Pietro cut in, accent thicker than usual. “So is everyone else, you must acknowledge it or else you will lose your mind trying to prepare for things you cannot deal with on your own,”

He wasn’t quite sure how to react. So he offered a smile as he tried to not wake Shura as he edged away from them. They mumbled a soft ‘нет’, clinging to his arm tightly.

“That’s gotta be the cutest shit I’ve ever seen,” Clint said, the corners of his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Should we wake them, or …?”

Bucky nudged Shura. They twitched, but otherwise didn’t respond. “I will push you off the couch,” he said bluntly. They opened their eyes and muttered something in Romanian that Bucky didn’t catch and sat up.

“Time?”

Clint checked his watch. “Just gone half one in the morning,” he said cheerily. They raised an eyebrow at him.

Then the three saw something change in Shura’s expression. Their eyes darkened and they clenched their jaw as their eyebrows creased together.

“Uh, Shura?” Bucky asked. He could see their metallic hand going into a fist, could hear the whirring coming from inside their arm.

“I can smell someone,”

“What?” he asked, thrown for a loop. “You can _smell_ someone?”

They turned their head to him. “Is not hard?” they snapped. “Whoever is, are downstairs – Stark’s lab?” they frowned before nodding, confirming it to themself, standing up as if they were going to go and kill this person.

“Uh, Jarvis?” Clint asked.

“I do believe that Mr. Parker has come to visit sir,”

“At half one in morning?” Shura cut in. Bucky sighed through his nose. “What?”

“Kid has some troubles and tends to come here at random times at night,” explained Pietro, smiling meekly. Shura didn’t look convinced. Then again, it was hard to tell what they were feeling. “How’s about we go down to the lab and you can see that it’s Peter that’s with Tony?”

They narrowed their eyes, sceptic, but nodded.

As soon as the two left, Bucky looked at Clint. He waved his arms in an approximation of ‘I don’t know, what the fuck?’

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky had followed Pietro and Shura not long after, and saw the two enter the lab and slipped through the closing door.

He knew that Tony enjoyed his electronics – he had practically been ecstatic when Bucky had finally let him look at his arm. And now he had another person with bionic limbs to check. This had to be Tony’s greatest moments.

“– yeah, Shura, meet Peter,” Tony was saying as Bucky entered. He could see the grin he was trying to hide.

“Здравствуйте,” Shura said as he got closer to stand beside them. They were looking at Peter almost analytically and Bucky nudged them in the back softly. “Hello.” they corrected.

Peter looked like he was torn between fear and amazement, was looking between their arm and their leg and their face like they were the best thing he'd ever seen, but was also one of the most terrifying things he’d ever seen. It made Bucky feel weird that he wanted to tell Peter to stay away from Shura, before he reminded himself that Shura could do that themself, and so would Горя.

“I’m-I’m-I’m Peter,” he said, stuttering over his words like usual when he was nervous. Shura blinked.

“Peter here is Spider-Man,”

“Нет, мальчик,” said Shura, the frown back on their face. Both Pietro and Bucky smiled, leaving the other two confused. “Boy,” they translated, offering a smile that ended up far too terrifying for Bucky’s sanity.

“Right. I’m gonna talk to the adults. You two go play nice,” said Tony, pushing Shura and Peter off to one of his desks, where an arc reactor, spanner, hammer and other assorted items laid. “OK, what’s with the slumber party?”

Bucky’s nose twitched. “They could smell Peter. Thought it was an intruder coming to attack you,” he said. Tony huffed an impressed noise as Shura picked up the arc reactor, holding it between their fingers. “They’re more enhanced than any of us anticipated,”

“I hear you,” Shura said, looking over at them, faux happy. He muttered an apology in Russian and they shrugged. “Not first time.” They turned their attention back to the arc, pushing it around the desk, head tilted down as Peter stared at them.

It was odd at how suddenly protective Bucky was of Shura. He hoped it wouldn’t get worse.

“And what are we gonna do?” Tony asked, looking surprisingly calm.

They shrugged. “Give us warnings of when people are entering the Tower? Or don’t let people come in at all until Shura stops doing that?”

Shura picked up the hammer, then looked at Peter evilly. He looked like he was going to pass out. Swiftly, Bucky walked over and took the hammer from them and held it out to Tony who took it. They sighed and turned back to look at Peter unblinkingly, like they were figuring out the best way to take him down.

“Is this a good idea?” Tony asked. Shura shook their head, grinning that evil grin again.

“I decide to kill him,” they said, then sighed disappointedly. “Not allowed to kill people here.”

To everyone’s surprise, Peter held out his music player. “Wanna listen?”

With that distracting Shura, the others went back to their conversation.

“I think we need to do more thorough testing of just how well their senses are. See what they’re actually fully capable of and how their mind works,” Tony said. “And, I wanna sort out those prosthetics. They’re not the right size and the shoulder one looks like it’s too heavy. It’s why they walk like you,” he said, looking at Bucky.

“What?”

“Well, you have this weird swagger and so do they, but it’s mirrored. It’s because your left is heavier than your right and vice versa for Shura. I need to make it more lightweight and easy for them – and you, I suppose – so that you’re not walking around like you own the place. Because that’s me.”

“And their leg?” Pietro asked. “It looks like it’s about to fall off, like it is not connected right.”

Tony shrugged. “Oh, that’s easy to fix. I just gotta look at the schematics of it all. I’m sure their leg is fine, just needs to be reconnected.”

“So long as Shura says you can do it, then go ahead,” said Bucky, sounding tired. He looked over at them, something twisting in his gut.

“Hey, for the record, you’re doing good,” Tony said, taking him by surprise.

They ended up deciding to just watch Shura and Peter interact. It was peculiar to watch, seeing the confusion on their face as Peter told them about all the things he was interested in. It was something that Bucky enjoyed to watch, felt almost privileged to witness.

“Yeah, I think I’m doing good,” he said quietly, then instantly regretted it when Shura stiffened up.

“Peter, don’t move,” Tony said, standing beside Bucky. Shura’s eyes glazed over as they stopped moving. He looked at Tony, worried, frightened and concerned.

Shura moved so quickly Bucky thought they had Pietro’s powers. He turned and tried to grab them, but they moved too quickly and then he was on the floor, winded with the taste of copper entering his mouth.

“What’s happened?” he heard Peter ask as he tried to blink away the black spots in his vision.

“Shura!” he said loudly, sitting up. Pietro was clutching his chest tightly and Tony was on his back, half his suit on. “You guys alright?”

“Metal hand straight to the chest, but yes, I am fine,”

Tony groaned. “My poor suit. _Again_ ,” he turned his attention to Peter. “Shura’s a sort of ghost assassin and can’t particularly control the whole alter ego that can kill people and nearly killed Steve and Bucky,” he said helpfully. Peter nodded, though did look terrified.

Bucky turned his attention to his surroundings, trying to listen for Shura – or in this case _Горя_ – but there was nothing. He glanced around to everything he could see, but he saw no sign of them. It was frustrating, but he had to understand that they were essentially a clone of him. He had to think like a brainwashed assassin … again.

He sensed the knife flying towards him and raised his arm, blocking it. Swiftly, he turned and threw it back in the direction, where Shura was stood. They caught the blade between their fingers, then smiled, sending chills down Bucky’s back. It wasn’t a smile he wanted to see on their face ever again.

They walked towards him, their gait different to what he had gotten accustomed to. He was prepared for their attack before it came. With each hit and block, there was the clang of metal hitting metal, the sound reverberating longer with each hit they executed.

It took Bucky by surprise when Shura was knocked to the ground, webbing sticking their hands to the floor.

They let out an inhuman noise, trying to lift their hands up. The others acted instantly, Tony sitting on their legs, suit calling to him as Bucky sat beside them, speaking at them in rapid Russian, trying to tuck Горя away back into Shura’s brain.

“Shura gone,” they said, and Bucky realised it was Горя talking. Горя was an entirely different person, not something that Shura could just slip into the role of. He could tell by the way they spoke and held themself, even under the weight of the Iron Man suit and Bucky.

“Bring them back,” he said darkly and Горя laughed. It twisted something in Bucky’s stomach because it was Shura’s voice, Shura’s laughter, but it was Горя using it, manipulating it to their advantage.

“No.” they said, smirking at the frustration on Bucky’s face.

He sighed through his nose, trying to hold back the annoyance and anger. “Горя, this is Shura’s body and mind. You will let them have it back,”

Горя raised their eyebrow, still struggling with the webbing. They turned to Peter. “I kill you first.” they said, that smile returning, making Bucky feel like he was about to throw up.

“Give Shura control again.” Bucky said firmly. Горя looked back to him and he knew they weren’t finished. He turned back to Russian, forcing Горя away.

Shura came to about ten minutes later, looking upset with themself.

“How’re you feeling kid?” Bucky asked once Tony had gotten off their legs. Pietro and Peter were sat at the side lines, pointedly not looking at Bucky or Shura.

They shook their head, pressing their lips together as Bucky took off the webbing on their hands. They weren’t looking at him, instead kept their eyes on the ceiling, counting the different tiles. Bucky wasn’t sure what to say to them, so talked about his life in the forties; he was also thankful that Tony made Peter and Pietro leave the lab as Bucky pulled Shura up and allowed them to cry into his chest.

“I … I thought I not lose control,” Shura said, broken words making Bucky feel worse. “Горя not supposed to do that. I not stop them,” they continued, metal fingers pressed to their eyes. “I not want to fear losing control. Means they come back quicker,”

“Do-do you know why they took control?”

Shura shook their head, body shaking. Bucky pulled them to his chest again, pressing a kiss to their head. They pulled their legs up to their chest, leaning against Bucky until they fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

“Are they alright?” Peter asked when Bucky returned to the lounge several hours later. The sun was beginning to rise, and Tony was onto his third cup of coffee already, accompanied by Clint who was on his fifth.

“Who?” Clint asked, frowning. “Shura?”

Bucky sighed as he sat beside Clint. “They’re fine, sleeping,” he said to Peter before turning to Clint. “They had a moment where Горя made an appearance. It was … bad.” He decided, feeling sick to be saying that.

“Bad?”

He shrugged, taking some of Clint’s coffee. “Горя made it feel like they’ve got their own plans. Like they might not need the trigger words to take control,”

“But doesn’t Shura also have to be scared for them to take control?”

“No clue. But it was like I was talking to a psycho. They’re planning something. Горя is dangerous and I’m not excited for when they enact their plan. But it was confusing because Shura’s said that Горя protects them when they’re scared. It doesn’t make sense.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Peter, frowning at the two men.

“Shura has an alter ego that can kill people and apparently Горя has a mind of their own and could somehow be planning to kill us all and use Shura to start it,” Clint said, shrugging his shoulders as he took back his coffee, emptying to mug in one go. “I got that right, right?”

“Right,”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Is Shura your kid or something?” he asked, looking between the two men.

Clint snorted. “They’re basically a clone of Bucky here,” he said, getting up to get another coffee.

“They don’t know,” Peter stated. Bucky ignored how bad he felt. He raised his eyebrow at the older man. “Why haven’t you told them?”

“They don’t need to know, not yet anyway,”

The boy rolled his eyes, looking between him and Tony, who was sat beside him. “Knowing you have family can make things bearable,” he said, giving the two men a meaning look. “Can’t you tell them?”

Tony looked at Bucky before he turned to Peter. “It’s this adult thing. Shock is a powerful drug and sometimes we need to get down from it before we can face up to our responsibilities,” he said. Peter didn’t look too pleased.

“Basically, Bucky has been a parent for less than a week, and doesn’t want to admit it to himself that he helped birth a child,” Pietro said, appearing beside Bucky. “Is not wrong,” he said when he saw the look Bucky was giving him.

“So Shura doesn’t know because you’ve barely known them a week?” Peter said. Bucky shrugged before shaking his head. “Will you tell them?”

“Maybe,” Bucky said, wishing the kid would just drop the damn subject.

“Are you gonna get them English lessons?” he said, raising his eyebrow.

“Maybe Professor X and the other X-Men at the mansion could help?” Pietro asked, raising his eyebrows minutely.

Peter nodded, looking between the adults. “I could talk to Logan about it? He teaches me art when I go,” he said.

Peter spent a lot of his time with the Avengers, and often enough for him, this ended up with him staying over at the mansion with the X-Men, which ended with him occasionally staying there to be taught a few things. Tony, his Aunt May and Professor X had all sorted it out for him. It helped when he had to deal with his body dysphoria whilst also having to deal with being Spider-Man.

“That could work. Doesn’t Logan speak like a million languages?” Pietro asked. The others shrugged as Clint returned, holding several mugs. They were instantly out of his hands and in Pietro’s, who was muttering in Sokovian about how Clint would’ve scalded them all if he tripped over his own feet again.

“I think we ought to have Shura go a week or so without an accident with Горя making an appearance,” Nat said, coming out of nowhere, taking Tony’s coffee as her own. He didn’t bother to complain. She sat beside Bucky. “It is also Bucky’s choice on what happens to Shura.”

That didn’t quite help the weird feeling in his stomach. But Nat had a point, hell, she always did. He only slightly wanted to punch her in the face for reminding him he had responsibilities again.

 

* * *

 

 

Shura had stayed in their bed for several hours, enough to the point that Bucky had gotten concerned and had gone into their room to check on them. It was really Bucky’s bed and bedroom they were in, not that he was too bothered by it; his couch was comfortable enough. But he was still worried about them.

“Shura?” he asked, sitting beside the lump underneath his bed covers. He could see it rising and falling steadily, so knew they _were_ under there and were still alive. He still didn’t get a response. “Shura, I can tell you’re awake.”

“Sleep,” came the muffled response, before the covers were pulled closer to their already covered face.

Bucky managed a smile, shaking his head gently. “If you were asleep I’m sure you wouldn’t be responding to me.”

“Not,” they said.

“Can I lay down beside you?” he asked. He saw the covers shift in a sort or nod and shifted over onto the other side of the bed and laid down beside them. “How are you feeling?”

“Shit,”

“Language,” he said, trying to sound sharp but it didn’t quite work. “I’m sorry you feel like that,” he said. “If I knew how to fix it I would, instantly.” he said honestly, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat.

They didn’t respond.

“You going to answer me?”

“Yes,”

He smiled. “Good. Is it going to be one word answers?”

“Probably,”

Bucky couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped him. “Well, you’re being honest which is good.”

“Yes,” they said, then made a whining noise as Bucky tugged at the duvet gently. “No. Mine.” They pulled the ends underneath them, making the same noises along with a few choice Russian curses.

He gave up.

“It’s just cold. I wanted something to keep warm,” he said. “We could’ve shared it,”

“Can,”

“May I please share it with you?”

The covers shifted, Shura shaking their head. “No,”

Bucky felt mildly offended. “Why not?”

“Cold,” they said, then seemed to roll beneath their protection. “Peter OK?” they asked, hand nudging Bucky’s side beneath the covers.

“He’s fine. You didn’t hurt anyone. It wasn’t your fault.” he told them. “Горя took control when you least expected it and you can’t help it when these things happen. But you’re strong and you’ll learn how to control it,”

“Hurt you?”

Bucky sighed.

“I did,”

“Not really. I just have a few bruises, but I’m fine otherwise. I’ve not been hurt like before – this means that you’re already improving,” he said, trying to make it sound better than it already was.

Shura poked him in the side, continuously. It was sort of annoying.

“What’re you doing?”

“You said you want share. Move and we share,” they said, poking him that bit harder. Bucky laughed and moved, shifting so he was half covered. They continued to poke him until he was almost fully beneath the covers.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” they said, then pushed up into his side. It was odd and slightly uncomfortable, but Bucky wasn’t bothered by it.

“You know the others worry about you,” he said and they headbutted him in the chest, but it was oddly gentle. “We’re gonna wait until you can go a few days, maybe a week, or maybe a month without letting Горя loose by accident and then we could let you venture out and go to the mansion where we can get someone to teach you English properly.”

“No,” they said, shaking their head. “No leave. Bad people.”

He sighed, pressing his metal hand to his jaw. “The bad people won’t hurt you when you go out to the mansion, I’ll make sure of it,”

“When. No when. Not happen,” Shura said, then pushed their head out from beneath the covers. “Still prisoner here. Just have more space here, yes?”

Bucky was beyond appalled. “Shura, you are not a prisoner here! We just want to make sure you’re safe. Sure, we don’t want you to go out because we don’t know how you might react, but you’re not a prisoner here. I wouldn’t want you to be a prisoner here.” He didn’t mean for it to come out so soft and upset, but he said it anyway.

They made a weird noise in the back of their throat, pointedly not looking up at him. “Thanks,” they said.

“You don’t have to thank me, Shura.” he said, putting his arm around them.

“First time not prisoner,” they said, shrugging their shoulders. “Is nice,”

He let them fall asleep next to him, following suit not long after.


	4. Showers and Windows

Shura was still shaken up for a few more days. It had taken a lot of persuasion on Bucky and Pietro’s part to get them to get out of Bucky’s bed.

They had stolen one of Bucky’s hoodies that used to be Steve’s and had appeared in the communal area at half two in the afternoon, face purposely blank. Bucky had been worried about them and couldn’t help the surprise when they went over to Natasha, talking quietly to her in Russian. She looked calm, and appeared to reassure Shura, commenting on the hoodie that went down to their knees.

Now, Shura wasn’t short by any standards, already nearing Bucky’s height and growing in their width, but they were practically drowning in the item of clothing. It was even baggy on Bucky and he supposed that it was a kind of comfort for Shura.

Once their conversation with Natasha had finished, they went into the fridge and took out some food labelled ‘BUCKY’ in bold lettering. Bucky couldn’t find it in him to tell them not to get it. Especially when they went and sat beside him, legs tucked up to their chest within the hoodie, chewing on the sandwich in their hands.

“How are you, kid?” Steve asked. They turned their head to look at him, and their hood blocked their view. They frowned, but Bucky was already pulling it down, eyes on the book in his lap as he put his metal arm around their shoulders. “Have you had any sleep?”

“Нет,” they said. There were circles under their eyes that were a dulling purple. Their skin looked like it lacked the colour usually there, and they looked sort of … sick.

It worried Bucky.

“Side effect of-of –” Shura couldn’t get the word out and looked frustrated because of it.

“Your serum?” Steve asked. They nodded, shrugging. “Kid, that’s not good. You look like shit,”

They gave him a thumbs up before they pulled the hood back up over their head. “Not care,” they said, finishing off their sandwich.

“Maybe you just need a shower?” Pietro suggested as he came into view. He grinned at Shura as they looked at him, murder glare in place.

Bucky knew he kind of had a point; Shura didn’t smell too good.

“Not safe.” they said, and somehow looked smaller than what they were.

“It’s safe,” he told them, but they shook their head, hand jerking upwards so quickly it was almost impossible to catch. But he realised. They didn’t trust Jarvis in the bathroom. “C’mon, kiddo,” he said, taking their metal hand in his own metallic one, leading them out of the communal area.

Neither of them said anything as he led the way, Shura too preoccupied with eating his sandwich. He ended up taking them down to the workshop Tony spent more or less all his time in. Unsurprisingly, the man was there, tinkering away at some something small and robotic.

Tony apparently knew they were coming because when Bucky tried the door, it was unlocked.

“What can I do for my favourite Terminators?” he asked, barely looking up in acknowledgement.

“I need you to take Jarvis out of my bathroom,” said Bucky. He felt Shura tense up beside him and saw the subtle glare that probably meant imminent death. “Today would be a good time for that to happen.” he added, and when Tony looked up, he gave a subtle gesture to Shura, whose attention was on the robot Tony was messing with.

He nodded. “Give me five minutes in your bathroom and Jarvis will be gone,” he said, standing up before he left.

Shura looked at Bucky. “Спасибо,” they muttered.

“You’re welcome,”

 

* * *

 

 

Shura had been in the shower for half an hour. Bucky wondered what the fuck they were doing in the shower that would take up half an hour. Then he supposed that they did smell and hadn’t really had a bath during the week or so that they had been at the Tower, and who knew when they last had a shower when they were under Hydra’s influence.

They had the decency to yell to him every so often; he was sat against the door for their comfort. It seemed that even though Tony had removed Jarvis from the bathroom, they still felt like they needed to have some form of protection covering the only entrance and exit. Bucky didn’t particularly mind; mainly because they trusted him enough to stand (or rather sit in his current position) guard whilst they showered.

But still. He’d been sat on his ass on the floor for half an hour, and his ass was going numb. Shura could apparently sense whenever he shifted too far away from the door and yelled at him in Russian until he was sat with his back pressed against the door again.

Surprisingly, he didn’t mind. He liked that Shura was talking to him, even if it was yelling that he was going to have to deal with a broken arm if he moved again. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Shura did come out of the shower, with nothing but a towel on just so they could break his arm for venturing too far.

“How long are you going to be?” he called, flicking a page in his book, ready to start the next chapter.

“Not long.” Shura replied, though he was sure that they’d said that after the first eight minutes into the shower. He didn’t bother to mutter anything under his breath about it because he knew they’d be able to hear him; if they were able to smell Peter from several floors apart, he was sure a door wouldn’t stop them from hearing him.

About another ten minutes later, Shura was opening the door, wet hair plastered to their face. They were dressed in some more of Bucky’s clothes, as neither of them really had the time to look for clothes in their size. Neither of them really wanted to go outside and risk Горя making a surprise visit.

“You look … different,” said Bucky.

“Thanks.” they deadpanned, looking unamused.

Their hair was shorter than what it had been before they had gone in the shower and he guessed they’d cut it. There was less grime and grease on their face, even the dark circles under their eyes had lessened and they looked like they were full of more life than before. Their brown skin looked like it was glowing with life and Bucky could see the freckles on their face, across their nose, around where their dimples were when they smiled, on their cheeks and chin.

Shura still looked small in Bucky’s oversized clothing.

“I mean it in a good way,” he said, sounding almost defensive. They raised one of their eyebrows before walking around him to sit on the bed, flicking the TV on.

“Felt safe,” they said after a moment of silence. The TV background noise wasn’t enough to fill the silence.

Bucky still felt pride that they had felt safe. “I’m glad you did. Was it better that I was there on the other side of the door, or that Jarvis wasn’t in there anymore?”

They looked like they were pondering their answer. “Yes.” Shura said, turning to look at him. “Both.”

He walked over to the bed, sitting down beside them. Their brows furrowed together minutely as they pressed their hands to their cheeks, looking like they were thinking. For all Bucky knew, they could’ve been thinking of a million and five different ways to kill him, or what to have for supper.

(It was probably both.)

“Where is mansion?” they asked, throwing Bucky off guard for half a second.

“Uh, upstate. Why?”

Shura shrugged, changing the channel. “We go in end. Should try,” they said, frowning to themself. “Not get right words,” they muttered bitterly, seriously catching Bucky off guard with the amount of hurt and upset in their face.

“That’s why we’re gonna go to the mansion, see if they’ve got anyone there who can help you get the right words,” he said. They sighed but didn’t add anything on the subject.

The two sat together in silence, watching the TV without really watching it. Neither of them particularly wanted to start a conversation. It lasted a good hour before Shura had decided to break it.

“How is Peter?” they asked, sounding oddly upset.

Bucky shrugged. “He’s fine,” he said, thinking over the conversation he had with the kid. “He’s not hurt from the incident,”

“We stop calling it incident, yes?” they interrupted. “Sounds dumb. Was Горя taking control. Was no incident.”

Admittedly, he was taken aback by the sudden outburst, but agreed to stop calling it an incident.

“I go talk to Natalia,” they said, getting up to leave.

Bucky moved from his seat. “Hey, you know you can talk to me about stuff,” he said. They shrugged, not looking up at him. It was odd to see that they were only a few inches shorter than him. “You don’t have to be scared to tell me things.”

They shook their head. “You be scared of what I say.” Shura said, then turned on their heel and left the room, leaving him standing there, dumbfounded.

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky ended up in the gym, steadily making his way through the punchbags there. He felt frustrated that Shura thought he would be scared of something they’d say. They knew he had spent time as the Winter Soldier, so should’ve known nothing they said could scare him.

He wasn’t particularly sure just how long he had kept himself hidden away in the gym, punching away at the different punchbags, but he knew it had to be a while. He decided that he didn’t care; if anyone needed him, they’d find him.

Then the nagging that Shura didn’t need him got a little louder.

The punchbag chains broke and it was sent flying across the gym.

Someone tutted, and he turned and glared in their direction. It was Steve, of course it was.

“You pissed, Buck?” he asked before he ventured further into the gym. “Shura not with you?”

“Piss off,” he muttered, wiping the sweat from his face. “They wanted to talk to Nat,” he said, turning to look at Steve.

He was wearing one of his tight shirts again, looking amused at Bucky’s misfortune. His hair was slightly ruffled and there was a glint in his eye. “I take it you’re jealous?”

Bucky tried to act indifferent, but Steve knew him inside and out.

“It’s fine that they’re talking to more than just you, Clint and Pietro,” Steve began, and he decided he didn’t want to deal with Steve’s shit. “Next thing you know, Shura will be off to college, getting boyfriends, girlfriends, whatever they want,”

“Steve.” he said, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Kindly shut the fuck up,”

Steve laughed like the asshole he secretly was before he sobered himself up. “But seriously, Buck, how’re you? I’ve barely spoken to you this last week,”

And Bucky spilled it all to him. Sort of. He told him about how worried he was about Shura, how confusing it was to already feel so responsible of them, to be there for them, and that he was worried that they wouldn’t need him. Steve listened patiently, nodding along every so often.

“You just care for them,” he said after a pause, once Bucky had stopped rambling. “I mean, I’m no expert, but it’s kinda obvious you see yourself in them, but you know they can redeem themself.”

Bucky pulled a face. “Don’t pull that psychology shit on me,”

“I’m not, that’s Sam’s job.” Steve replied, but he was smiling faintly. “C’mon, food would be good around about now,” he said, leading Bucky out of the gym.

When they got to the kitchen, both men were surprised to see Shura sitting on the counter, Natasha by their side as they spoke to Pietro and Peter about the mansion. Bucky made a mental note at how Natasha had positioned herself, turning on a minute angle, almost like she was shielding them from the window.

What had surprised Bucky the most was that Shura was smiling. Sure, he’d seen them smile before, but this wasn’t like the other times; they looked … normal, like they were a regular teenager, not some cloned assassin.

“Finally,” Pietro said when he caught sight of the two men. “Babysitting has been boring,”

Shura frowned. “Why sit on babies?” they asked, confused. They sent a terrifying look to Peter who laughed.

“It means caring for someone younger than you,” he said, unperturbed by the look. Shura looked suspicious of him but didn’t say anything else.

“I doubt you were babysitting,” Bucky said to Pietro. “You act like a child anyway, so you’re the one who needs to be babysat,”

Shura muttered something in Russian about everyone being cruel to babies. Natasha smiled faintly.

Whatever they were about to say was forgotten when Peter brought back the subject of the mansion, telling Shura some maybe slightly exaggerated stories from his time there. It kept them interested, which was something.

“Where’s Clint?” Bucky asked, looking at Natasha.

“Mission,” she said with an elegant shrug of her shoulders. “He’ll be back within a few days, a week tops.” she added before she tapped the counter rhythmically and left. Shura acted like nothing happened, though both Bucky and Steve saw the tension settle in their shoulders.

Bucky took over Natasha’s spot; he was a bigger target after all. They seemed to appreciate this, shifting until their back was against his shoulder, head resting against the back of his neck, bare feet kicked up onto the counter.

“Don’t you two look adorable,” Steve said once Tony had come to take Peter back to his Aunt’s place. Pietro had long since gone to find Wanda. “If I didn’t know any better, you’d both look like normal people. So what’s with the shielding?” he asked.

Just as Bucky was about to answer, Shura did it for him. Then he realised Steve hadn’t been talking to him in the first place.

“Don’t like windows,” they said, glancing over to the floor to ceiling windows that flooded the floor with light. “Not safe.”

“Is that what you always mean by this place not being safe?” he asked, glancing at Bucky.

They shrugged. “I suppose. Windows not safe. I not trust the sky man and lot of blind spots,” they said, shrugging again.

“We can get Tony to fix these problems, if it would make you comfortable?” Steve suggested.

“No,” they said, and it felt like their weight against Bucky was suddenly a lot heavier, like they were carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders and was using him as support.

“Y’know, you won’t be bothering him; he’ll want you comfortable here,” he told them. They shrugged, finding their adamantium toes very interesting.

He looked at Steve for some kind of backup, but he simply shrugged, looking between the two. “Shura, if you are uncomfortable, we can adjust these things so that you’ll feel safe.”

“Never safe. No point,” they said, turning their head to look at Steve.  “Not stop bad people,”

 

* * *

 

 

It took Clint a week before he returned from his mission. He had appeared in the doorway of the communal area, covered in bruises and cuts, his tactical gear ripped, showing flesh wounds.

So naturally, everyone was surprised when Shura had gone up to him and hugged him. Clint had been pleased, his expression like he had just won a life time’s worth of free coffee. The hug didn’t last long, and then Shura had vanished.

Clint looked at the others, beaming. “I knew they loved me!”

Pietro snorted, holding out a Starbucks coffee that Clint took gratefully. “I am sure that will not happen again for some time,” he said, raising his eyebrows at him.

“Go shower, you smell,” Bucky told him, turning a page in his book. “Where do you think Shura went?”

“Vents?” Pietro suggested, eyes glancing up at the unnoticeable vent in the ceiling.

Clint shook his head. “Pretty sure it’s just me that does that.” he said, sipping at his coffee. “So far Shura’s only gone for the vents once, and that was when it wasn’t really Shura,”

“Maybe they’ve gone to your room?” Wanda asked from her spot on the couch. She was looking unconcerned as she watched the three interacting. “That is where they reside when neither you or Natasha are here,”

Bucky pressed his lips together, closing his book. “I don’t wanna overwhelm them by hovering over their shoulder all the time.”

“I will, I do not care,” Pietro said and before any of them could say anything, he had vanished, Bucky’s book pages flipping from the wind caused by his run.

“Your brother has no self-preservation,”

“Says you,” Wanda muttered, turning her gaze away from Clint. “And Bucky is right, you do smell.”

He looked only mildly offended. “I’ve just got back from a mission, I thought a shower could wait,”

“It can’t,” Bucky told him, taking his coffee from him. “And neither will the paperwork.”

“Bitch.”


End file.
